


Parent Tale

by Angelblaze



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Mommyton, Multi, PTA Sans, PTA Smackdown Drabbles, Transphobia, papyton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelblaze/pseuds/Angelblaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A random collection of drabbles of our dearest friends in the human world, serving as Frisk's legal guardians.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Linda." Sans hissed, extending his hand and resisting the urge to twitch when his bones made contact with her overly oily, hand sanitizer scented skin. "Late as always." He mentioned with a laugh.

"You can't rush perfection!" She laughed, just as dryly, twisting Sans' hand into an uncomfortable position. Sans took it without flinching. He knew all her tricks by now. "So, how's Fisk and the family?"  
  
" _Frisk_ and the family are all doing amazing." Not that'd she remember. Already Sans recounted the tale at least three times to her of the difficulty it was to gather all the paperwork, finances and resources that allowed them to not only have legal custody of Frisk, but to be considered human by law, to own their own expansive home where they could live together and advance their seemingly infinite lives. The fact that he was here right now was no small miracle. The fact that any of them were here right now was no small miracle. A big eight plus person family all coming together under one roof, to raise a child.

It wasn't easy, not in the slightest. Especially when dealing with people like Linda. All too obnoxious to normal people, much less to the physically different, sexually non-conforming and essentially 'anti-everyone who isn't an exact replica of _me_ '.  
  
"Good to hear." Linda said, the interest in her voice fading as fast as his patience for her.


	2. Lemon Squares

The only open seats were next to each other. So he hid his phone under his desk so that he could look at Frisk and remind himself why he was here in the first place. Otherwise, Linda would have to dodge more than just her responsibilities as a mother.  
  
"Now, onto the subject at hand. Recently, teachers have complained that there is not enough time in the day to teach all the material; this isn't something that necessarily is the fault of you all, or the teachers or students, but any suggestions or ideas for improvement would be appreciated."   
  
The rest of the table was ceremoniously silent as Linda began her suggestion.   
  
"Well," Linda said, pretending to be as sheepish as she could. "If certain students were somehow encouraged by particular parents that their literal voices were important, we could save time in the class room by not having them waste time signing."   
  
"Yes, most certainly Linda." Sans said, mocking her mannerisms. "And if certain students got off their all too copious amounts of behind and did something with their lives and brains instead of having their mommies do all their work for them while they wasted their youth away, we wouldn't have to keep teaching them the same things every year."   
  
"Are you implying something?"  
  
"Not at all." Sans got up from the table. "Now, if you'd excuse me I have to hit the bathroom. Linda's lemon squares sure do have a way of making that happen!"   
  



	3. Slow Down, Idiot Crossing

Someone was smart enough to get another chair and put it across the table. About four full arm lengths away from Linda. This way when he lunged for her throat - and he would, he promised himself he wouldn't but he would - he'd have a bit of jumping distance to swing his weight enough to knock her down and pin her.   
  
"Welcome back, Sans. I trust you got all the less than, ahem, agreeable foodstuffs out of your system?" Linda shot the teacher a strong glare. Which she shrugged off. Sans wished he had that level of ability. Or maybe it was familiarity that gave her this level of tolerance. In which case, he wished he has less of it.   
  
"Getting right back on topic. Saving time in classrooms. What can we suggest, hm?"  
  
"Well, perhaps instead of forcing children to try and keep up with others, we slow down to the pace of the slowest children?"  
  
Ignoring the fact that her answer was entirely contradictory to the previous question, Sans pretended to be half way invested.  "Linda. If everything slowed down enough so that your son could understand it, the speed limit would be so low it would justify how late you are to virtually every meeting."  
  
"Look, Sans. Clearly you're a little outraged and I can understand." Linda put her hand over her heart. "I know how hard it must be, lacking humanity, being far from home, and all that."  
  
"I'm sure you do Linda. I'm sure you do."  
  



	4. Grandpa Gaster Comes to Town

"The new Science Squad project will be occurring next month and I vote myself to lead the outer space portion of the event."

"Linda." Sans had some insult on the tip of his tongue. It disappeared. One minute here, the next gone. "I'm pretty sure that we have to vote." He managed that much, at least.

"Oh! Spare me, Sans." Linda rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

Watching Linda explain herself was more difficult then usual, which was saying something. There was nothing in the way, yet there was something in the way. Something both there and not there, here and not there.  
  
There was nothing but emptiness, where everything was. But everything still was.  
  
"Sans, I know you think that somehow I'm incompetent, but I'll have you know I have a degree in Astronomy."  
  
                                                                                                                               A s **hado** w.....  
                                                                                                l  o  _o ming overh **ea**_ d.  
                                          Da _r_ k  
                                                                           D **ark** er.  
  
                                                                                                                                              ** _Yet, darker._**  
  
"I'd clearly be the best choice for the job."  
  
"I'm sure you would be, Linda. With that planet you call an ass." Gaster said, standing on top of the PTA table. His oily black slime coating Linda's brownies.  
  
"What the fuck?!" Linda screamed. Gaster laughed and with that, disappeared. The only evidence of his disappearance being the now missing brownies.  
  
"With that planet you call an ass." Sans blurted out, but devoid of humor or the strange entertainment one gets from repeating a funny turn of phrase.

"What just happened?!" Linda screeched.

"Gaster's in town." Sans groaned. "Fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said Mommyton would be making his debut (and he will) but I decided to write something for my Bae.


	5. Goddammit, Sans! This is America!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New headcannon. 
> 
> Howard is Linda's freedom obsessed, anti-sjw cousin from down south who forces himself on the rest of the PTA in their BBQs.

"I don't know, Sans. Sometimes everything just seems so up in the air. For instance, the other day I was watching the news and I just couldn't you know? I watched everything happening around the world, school shootings, bombings, the sadness and I cried a little tear that my baby was gonna grow up in this sorta world, ya know?"

Sans could feel the heat rising, every word Howard spoke made the flames grow hotter. This. This was gonna be a rough one.

"Like, I made life. Me and my wife got together and made a beautiful daughter. Straight onto God's green Earth."

"I'll send my her my condolences." Sans deadpanned.

"What'd ya say?" Howard asked, for once looking up from the ground and the beer in his hand and to Sans. He didn't even give the skeleton a chance to answer. "Eh, anyway. I made a kid. And she's living in this hell hole and I can't do nothing 'fer it. Science ain't found out how to live on Mars just yet, you know."

"And the country just going straight to shit and I can't do nothin' about it. I'm just one man. I got big dreams. High dreams. Pie in the sky dreams, hehe. But one man with a big dream is just one man. And then I got to startin' thinkin'."

"God, help us all." Sans mumbled.

"But you know what Sans? I can still decide. And that's what this country's 'bout. Don't let them bigwigs in some big fancy house tell you what this country is about. You make your own way and make the world your own. That's whats real. That's America."

"Howard, stop."

"Goddammit Sans, this is _America_!"

"Howard," Sans snapped, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "All I asked was _what did you want on your fucking burger_?"


	6. Back by Popular Demand

"I hope after last weeks incident there will be no more disruptions." The teacher said to the two grown adults she had to physically separate on opposite sides of the room with Toriel brought in as a mediator in between.  
  
"I wasn't here for the previous incidents, but I assure you Sans will not be causing any further disturbances. Right Sans?" Toriel said, enough force in her voice that doing anything but nodding wouldn't do.  
  
"Yeah, okay." Sans said, hands in pockets. "But let's just make sure--"  
  
                                    A shadow.....  
  
                                                                                                           r        h  
                                                                                                        e              e  
                                                                                                     v                    a  
                                                                               l  o  o ming o                         d  
           Dark                                 Darker.  
   
                                                                                                                           Yet, darker.  
  
Gaster materialized onto the table -- this time, instead of his irregular, goopy, formless form, he had the physicality of a bespectacled human wearing a black turtleneck under a matching black coat and form fitting pants with boots polished to a shine. He reclined, legs crossed in a red comforter chair that materialized with him, complete with a dollie on the back and familiar platter full of brownies.  
  
Humans scattered across the room, all shouting and yelling in shock. Linda stood, pinned against the wall, the table and a chair she grabbed held in front of her.  
  
Gaster took a bite from a brownie, then pulled a sour face. "These brownies taste like shit."  
  
"Yet, you're eating them anyway." Linda raised her chair in defense.  
  
"It's less like 'Oh! These are good, can't tell Linda!' and more like 'Oh yay, brownies!' and I forget how disgusting they taste, then I take a bite and I go 'Oh no, _shit_.'"  
  
"You think you're funny. You aren't." Linda grinned. 

"Linda the only thing I think is funny is that you honestly believe _you_ can lead a school wide science project better than someone with a degree."

  
"You." Linda hissed. "You just come in here as you please and destroy people's property."  
  
"Brilliant observation. Here's my well thought out and brilliant counter argument." Gaster said, then said nothing. And continued to eat Linda's godawful brownies.  
  
"Gaster, what're you doing?"  
  
"What can I say? I'm probably a masochist."  Gaster shrugged, dusting the brownie crumbs off his coat.  
  
"I mean, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Considering the congregation, same answer applies."  
  
"Excuse me?!" Linda yelled.  
  
"Yes, excuse you indeed." Gaster licked a brownie and made a contemplative face. "Do I really want to subject myself to another bite? Hm."  
  
"How about you subject yourself to leaving?"  
  
"Eat a dick, Linda." Gaster said, taking a slow bite, then recoiling with disgust and dropping the thing.  
  
"Can't you be just a bit more, you know, classy?"  
  
"Ahem! Excuse me madam Linda, but would you please eat a dick?"  
  
"Your behavior is rude and uncalled for and I would very much ask that you be removed from the room."  
  
"Uncalled for? I prefer the word 'spontaneous.'" Gaster did a little victory dance in his seat.  
  
The teacher must have snapped out of whatever shocked daze Gaster's appearance put people in, she shouted. "I'm getting a security guard right now!" As she and a few more then shocked others scampered out of the room. Linda smiled as she chased behind them, leaving Sans and Gaster alone.  
  
"Well, I've about reached my limit." Gaster said and tossed the plate across the room. "See you losers later." The space where he existed disappeared with him -- table and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title is based off that one Eminem song.


	7. Sarah, Seriously, Vaccinate Your Fucking Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah needs to vaccinate her fucking kids. Like seriously. They look like plague rats.

"Kiddo, were you worried I wasn't gonna come?" Sans asked, as they stepped out of the bus into the main hall of the aquarium. Frisk nodded and grabbed Sans hand with their tiny little fingers. Sans rubs his hand on the top of Frisk's head, musing all their thick brown hair. "I wouldn't let you go anywhere without me or one of the others supervising you." The little smile he gets in return blooms a little joy in his heart, but it crashes when he can see the party of three approaching them. 

Sans places his hands on Frisk's shoulders and steps them both aside, placing himself between Sarah and her two kids. 

Sarah, blond ponytail, button down red cardigan and slacks and all wasn't one to let things like that pass, no matter how justified the actions were. "My children don't have the plague, Sans."

"Yet." He added, eyeing the two little kids. It was bad enough they weren't vaccinated but they were the definition of 'snot nosed' - they had light green crisps around the center parts of their nose, the sniffles. Sans isn't sure whether he should be terrified for their safety or terrified for his own. 

"Sans," She sighed, as if he begged for her to grace him with her opinion. Really, its because she thinks, maybe, if she repeated her little speech about why she doesn't vaccinate, for say the ninth time, this time it would really stick. "I know you like to imagine the medical community has your child's best at heart." 

"Sarah, I literally do not care and we are not having this conversation again. Get your kids vaccinated."

"The pharmaceutical industry makes --"

"I don't know how much but I'd pay twice that to, you know, save my child's life. Get your kids vaccinated."

"I'm not filling my children up with poison --"

"Sarah," Sans pet Frisk's head, not keen on taking too many risks. "I'm not gonna let Frisk slowly and painfully die of something easily preventable -- she's my child, not your failing marriage. Get your kids vaccinated."

Sarah stood mouth agape while Sans took Frisk to go see the giant turtles.


	8. Chapter 8

In spite of what some may think of their decidedly uncomplicated appearance and relaxed demeanor, Frisk was a hyperactive ball of determined energy. When they set their beautiful mind to something, they would get it and no power above or below ground could stop them. So, when Frisk decided that they wanted to be a part of their school's baseball team, Mettaton couldn't stand in their way -- though he did kick up enough of a fuss that Papyrus himself had to intervene.   
  
"I'm worried about my little baby." Mettaton explained with a pout. "Think of all the scrapped knees, and bumps and bruises they could get -- haven't they gone through enough?"  
  
"Metta, sweetheart." Papyrus sat him down on their bed and comforted him with one hand wrapped around his shoulder.   
  
"If its what Frisk wants and we know that they can handle it, what sort of parents would we be to stand in their way? Shouldn't our job be teaching Frisk, not restricting them?" Papyrus shrugged and he agreed with swelling pride.  
  
So now here he was, donning a black and pink be-sparkled one piece and sitting on the stands, legs crossed and polished to a shimmery shine. He supported Frisk but he wished the game was shorter -- twenty minutes of nothing happening and by the twenty fifth he hadn't seen Frisk once. He could never understand the hype surrounding baseball. He knew the game, the rules, the players, he could even read of major events regarding the history of the sport. But why people would want to run in this weather was beyond him. The heat certainly wasn't doing his hair any favors.  
  
"Well, that's one way to dress."

Lord, give him strength it was Helen.   
  
"And I suppose everyone in the world got together and decided your outfit is definitive fashion?" Mettaton said, crossing and uncrossing his legs.   
  
"I would say my outfit is a bit more...respectable for the current climate and atmosphere," She giggled, batted at the air as if what she said wasn't an insult -- which it _was_. "I mean, its a bit too hot out but I'm sure I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like that."  
  
"Oh, don't you worry darling." Mettaton wagged his finger and copied her chipper tune. "You keep saying things like that and we'll get _plenty_ of shade."  
  
"I'm sorry, its just normal people around here don't dress like that."  
  
"Because most people here lack taste." He said without a second thought, raising his chin as a familiar face stepped up to the plate and tapped their little bat on the ground a couple times.   
  
Frisk didn't release the mighty swing that other kids tried, instead they bunted, tossed the bat and dashed for first base to the sound of ringing, metallic applause. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know either.


End file.
